


Down By the Broken Treehouse

by missmichellebelle



Series: Treehouse [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They never go into the treehouse anymore. They’re in middle school now, and there’s some unspoken rule that they aren’t supposed to use it. Except, of course, in case of emergencies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down By the Broken Treehouse

They never go into the treehouse anymore. They’re in middle school now, and there’s some unspoken rule that they aren’t supposed to use it. Except, of course, in case of emergencies.

Like that time Darren and his brother got in a really bad fight, or when Chris’s extended family came over and he just needed to get away for a little while.

Or, when the guys at school keep giving Chris a hard time, and Darren ends up with a mottled bruise on his cheek for sticking up for him. 

They walk home that day, Chris tucked under Darren’s arm and his face stained with tears. Darren just tries to keep them walking forward, hand absently rubbing Chris’s arm, trying to calm him down. And Chris just keeps  _apologizing_ , for everything. He’s sorry for crying, he’s sorry for getting snot on Darren’s Sum 41 shirt, he’s sorry that _those guys were picking on him_ , he’s sorry for the darkening bruise blooming on Darren’s jaw.

“Chris, it’s okay,” Darren keeps saying, but Chris doesn’t stop crying, and Darren has to just focus on walking. If he focuses on anything else, he’ll have to accept the fact that he can’t make any of this better for Chris. He’ll have to understand there is nothing more he can do in this situation but continue being Chris’s best friend, just like he’s always been.

“Can we—” Chris is wheezing, the words tumbling out of his mouth with unnatural stops and starts and wet sounds. “Can we go to the treehouse today?”

Anything Chris wants right now, Darren would probably give him.

Once the hatch is shut behind them, Chris absolutely curls in on himself—he huddles in the corner beneath a blanket fort that’s been nailed into place for  _years_  now, cradled in a nest of thrift store and garage sale pillows. When they had nothing better to spend their money on (like a new video game, or Pokémon cards, or ice cream), they would put it towards something for this treehouse. It had been their home-away-from-home for so many years, and Darren feels a dull ache where he misses it.

That ache is shadowed now by how small Chris looks, like he’s trying to make himself disappear. It’s a pity their stash is completely infested with bugs or absolutely stale, because this is a total oreos moment.

Instead, Darren crawls under the canopy blanket next to Chris—they’re bigger now, and it’s a tighter fit than it used to be—until their shoulders are touching.

“Don’t tell your mom, okay?” Chris whispers into his arms, his head ducked low so that he’s muffled and Darren can’t see him at all. So Darren stares straight ahead, at the weather stained collection of crayon art decorating the far wall. Darren had figured Chris wouldn’t want him to tell. He never wants Darren to tell, because Darren telling his mom is basically the same thing as telling Chris’s mom.

There are a few things that Chris fears more than his parents finding out about what’s been happening at school.

Darren wants them to know, because parents are superheroes, and even though he’s old enough to know that they don’t actually have super powers, he still believes they could make things better for Chris. And he just  _really_  wants things to be better for Chris.

They’ve been best friends since Darren moved in next door when he was six—a woman had come to the door with cookies and a little boy hiding behind her legs, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Well, more like Darren has glued himself to Chris’s side since. Things used to be a lot simpler, and the kids they went to school with used to not be  _assholes_.

Before, they were mean kids, but Darren isn’t a kid anymore, so now they’re  _assholes_ , and he can call them that because he’s thinking it and his mom isn’t around to wash his mouth out.

“I’ll tell her I fell over a chair in drama class.” Darren pauses. “Again.” It isn’t the first time he’s come home with bruises, although last time he  _had_  fallen over a chair.

Chris hiccups and burrows further in on himself.

“I’m so sorry, Dare,” Chris murmurs, and Darren wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer.

“Hey, no, stop. You didn’t do anything.”

Chris never does anything, but they always come after him, anyway. Like they’re punishing him for existing at all, and Darren  _hates_  them for it. He hates them for it even more because they always wait until Chris is on his own, and Darren isn’t always there for him, and  _that_ ,  _that_  is what kills him. Because if he can keep Chris safe by being around him, Darren should be around him as often as possible.

“But they hit you because of  _me_.”

“No, they hit me because they’re assholes.” It feels good to say, and it makes Chris laugh wetly, so Darren will keep saying it, if it helps. “They… They didn’t hit you, did they?”

They haven’t yet, Darren knows, and feels relief when Chris shakes his head. Chris doesn’t fight back, he just tries to become as small as possible, as if that will make them go away faster. Like, if Chris could turn invisible or disappear, he would.

Darren grips him tighter, because even the  _idea_  of Chris disappearing makes a hole open up inside of him, painful and empty.

“What was it today?” Darren asks, because sometimes they find the stupidest things. Chris used to have all these awesome keychains on his backpack—one of them had been Chewbacca, and it had made awesome noises. Darren had loved playing with it. Then, one day, this guy had just stepped on it and crushed it to pieces. So Chris’s backpack doesn’t have anything on it anymore. And another time, these guys had harassed him for wearing a Power Rangers t-shirt, so now Chris doesn’t wear any sort of special t-shirts even though he has dozens of them. So today his t-shirt is just plain and grey.

He doesn’t know why they picked Chris, why it had to be  _Chris_  out of everyone else, but they decided he needed to blend into the background, to be treated like little more than scenery. It makes Darren’s  _blood_  boil.

Because Chris doesn’t deserve it.

“They…” Chris’s voice stutters, stops, and he breathes unsteadily. “They were… Calling me names.”

That’s newer. That’s only started in the last year. Darren holds Chris closer, not needing to ask what names when he already knows.

“They’re assholes,” Darren repeats, fiercely. “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know what the… What the  _fuck_  they’re talking about.”

That makes Chris look up, eyes wide with surprise, and he’s gaping a little bit at Darren. But all Darren sees is how puffy and pink his face is, how the tears have stopped but how the tracks are still there, like reminders.

“Your mom would  _kill_  you if she heard you talking like that.” Chris doesn’t sound offended—more like he has some new sort of awed respect for Darren. Which makes sense—cursing  _totally_  makes him sound older.

“And your mom wouldn’t let you hang out with me anymore, because I’d be a bad influence, so uh, let’s just keep that for the treehouse, okay?”

Chris chuckles, more wetly than normal, but definitely a real laugh, and Darren feels a small sense of victory. If nothing else, at least he can make Chris laugh.

And then he’s leaning into Darren, face pressed to his shoulder and an arm winding around Darren’s waist. Darren hugs Chris back, smiling happily, because as often as Darren  _tries_  to hug Chris, his best friend isn’t always very willing. He takes hugs where he can get them.

Darren feels Chris calming down—his body starts to relax as it starts getting darker outside, but they solved the problems of lights and cold years ago, if they decide to stay there longer. That, and Darren doesn’t want to move away from holding Chris if he doesn’t have to.

He feels himself nodding off when Chris finally shifts around. Damn, Darren had forgotten how comfortable the pillow nest they’d made was.

“Hey Darren?” Chris asks, voice quiet, and Darren doesn’t even open his eyes when he hums in answer. They’re practically lying down now, curled together and warm in their little haven. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fallen asleep together, but… It’s been a few years. As easy as it used to be, Chris seems to be pulling further and further into himself lately. Darren still remembers when they used to hold hands everywhere they went, or would sleep over in each other’s beds, and he smiles and pretends it doesn’t hurt when Chris shies away from those things now.

“…what if they’re right?” Chris sounds so small, and terrified, and Darren comes to attention, turning so he can look at Chris. He’s on his back, staring up at the ceiling stuck with glow-in-the-dark stars, neck cushioned on Darren’s arm.

“About what?” Darren asks back, just as quiet, and Chris pulls his lip between his teeth, turning his head to look at Darren.

“About what they say… About me… About how I’m a—I’m a—” Chris’s chin starts to wobble; he can’t even  _say_  it.

“They’re assholes,” Darren reiterates, but then thinks about what Chris said— _really_ thinks about it. “And… So what?”

Chris’s eyes widen, and he shifts so that his body is facing Darren’s, as well.

“So  _what?_ ” He asks, obviously shocked.

“Yeah.” Darren holds his eyes. “So what? There’s nothing wrong with being gay, Chris.”

Chris shushes him, looking around wildly like he’s  _terrified_  of anyone overhearing them, like he’s terrified of the word itself.

“I don’t… I don’t  _want_  to be gay, I just… I just want to be normal.” Chris drops his eyes and then turns his face into Darren’s arm, and Darren frowns deeply.

“Being normal is lame,” Darren says first. “But being gay doesn’t make you  _not_ normal, it just… Yeah, pretty sure it doesn’t change anything about you.”

“But my parents—”

“Love you. They love you a lot, Chris.” Darren wiggles his arm, trying to get Chris to look up at him. “You can tell, because when you let your mom hug you, she tries to squeeze all the air out.”

He feels Chris’s breath puff against the sleeve of his shirt.

“And that’s not the kind of love that changes,” Darren assures him, reaching over to run a hand wide up and down Chris’s arm. Chris does peek up then, smiling softly, and Darren matches it.

“…what if I am?” Chris hedges, cautiously. “Will you—”

“Chris, nothing about you, nothing you could do, would change the fact that you’re my best friend.” Darren shakes him, and Chris laughs again, nose crinkling up. “Well, unless you suddenly decide Star Wars or Harry Potter or Disney sucks, because then you’re not my best friend. You’re an alien.” Darren widens his eyes, leaning closer. “Answer the secret question.”

“The Green Ranger,” Chris answers around a grin, and Darren grabs him close in a hug.

“The real Chris,” Darren says with a sense of relief, and Chris whacks him, laughing again. “But seriously…” Darren hugs Chris tight and closes his eyes. “You get that I’m serious, right?”

“…yeah,” Chris whispers, squirming a little bit like he does these days whenever Darren is close or holds too tight for too long.

…and suddenly, that’s starting to make sense to Darren.

“…do you think you might be?” Darren doesn’t know how else to ask, so he just does, and Chris jolts back, staring at him. Darren feels like he totally just messed something up, like Chris is about to bolt and tell Darren that he doesn’t ever want to see him again,  _ever_ , which would suck. But Chris doesn’t run—apparently whatever he sees in Darren’s face is enough to excuse his moment of idiocy.

Chris does roll away though, back on his back, and stares up at the fake stars that are starting to glow now that the sun is going down.

“I don’t know,” Chris says after a moment, blinking up at the ceiling. 

“Well… Have you ever kissed a boy?”

“ _What?_ ” Darren can see Chris’s eyes widen. “I— _no._  No, I—no. If I had, I would have…” Chris makes flailing gestures with his hands, but Darren gets him. Darren always gets him. Plus, he would have been super hurt if Chris had kept something like that from him.

“Well, you kissed Samantha at my birthday party last year, right?”

“Ugh.” Chris groans, closing his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“No, I’m gonna. Like… How was it?”

“She tried to  _lick_  me,” Chris hisses, shooting a look at Darren, because, yeah, Chris has told this story like half a dozen times to Darren alone. Darren laughs, then nudges his knee against Chris’s.

“That aside, though, like… How’d it feel?”

Chris stares blankly upwards, chewing on his lower lip.

“I don’t know. It was my first kiss. It didn’t feel like anything, really. It felt like someone’s lips pressed against my lips.” Chris looks at Darren. “I just figured that’s how it’s supposed to feel.”

“No fireworks?” Darren teases, but Chris shakes his head, shrugging. “Kissing is supposed to feel good,” Darren informs him, sagely, and Chris rolls his eyes.

“Well, it could be the fact that I was kissing Samantha Porter and not someone I actually  _like_.”

“Do you like someone?” Darren asks, eagerly.

“ _No_ , I—” Chris swallows, looking away from Darren completely. “No,” he repeats, more forcefully. “Anyway… It’s not like it matters. I’ll find out in college or something, right?” Chris jokes lightly.

“…you think you’ll have to wait that long to kiss someone?” Darren frowns. He knows Chris doesn’t really talk about his feelings, like, ever, and he always just sort of sat and listened to Darren talk about girls with an expression like he was humoring Darren, or indulging him.

This whole conversation feels like it’s filling in holes that Darren never realized were there, and it kind of makes him feel like an asshole.

“Even if I did want to…” Chris stops and breathes, and then drops his voice, “kiss a boy, there aren’t any boys  _here_ , especially, that I’d want to kiss or… Or who’d want to kiss me.”

“You don’t want to kiss me?” Darren frowns. He is totally kissable. 

Chris is staring at him again, that same look of shock written all over his face.

“Do you  _want_  me to kiss you?” Chris asks, voice laced with sarcasm and disbelief.

“You can kiss me if you want to.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine!”

“I don’t—” Chris lets out a frustrated noise and shakes his hands in the air above him. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And I shouldn’t want to kiss you.”

“Shouldn’t want doesn’t mean  _doesn’t_  want.” Darren grins at him, until he notices that Chris is covering his face with his hands. Darren shifts closer, frowning a bit. “…it’s okay if you do.”

“No.” Chris’s voice is muffled through his hands. “It’s  _weird_.”

“Hey!” Darren yanks on Chris’s wrist, revealing half of his face. “Wanting to kiss me isn’t weird. Actually, it kind of hurts my feelings that you think that.”

“Oh my  _god_ , Darren, it isn’t because of you.”

And wow, okay, Chris is actually upset about this. Darren stops manhandling Chris’s wrist, and holds his hand instead.

“Chris, you wanting to kiss me isn’t weird. At least,  _I_  don’t think it’s weird. I know I’m very kissable.” Darren puckers his lips. “I’m surprise you’ve resisted this long.”

“You’re an idiot,” Chris mutters darkly, and Darren just grins at him.

“Come on, we’re best friends for  _life_. We’re bound to kiss at some point, right?”

“… _no_ , who came up with— _no_.”

“Yeah, just like we’ll probably see each other naked—”

“Darren!”

“—I mean, technically we already have, but we were six, so I don’t think that counts.”

Chris is trying to cover his face again, and Darren is just glad that he’s focused on how ridiculous Darren is, rather than… Well, everything that had had him folded in on himself earlier. But Chris still hasn’t really answered his question.

Darren pulls on Chris’s hand until he’s pulled onto his side, and they’re lying face to face again. Chris is smiling, looking at him in that fond way he does, and Darren smiles back.

“So, this kissing thing—”

“Please drop it.” Chris stares him straight in the eye, but he looks more scared than annoyed. Especially when Darren shifts a little closer.

“Okay, well… What if I  _do_  want to kiss you?” Darren whispers, and watches Chris’s eyes get big.

“You don’t,” he responds, matter-of-factly.

“Oh, are you me, now?” Darren smiles.

“No, but… Why would  _you_  want to kiss  _me?_ ”

The way Chris asks, it doesn’t sound like it has anything with Darren being a guy and Chris being another guy—but because Darren is, well,  _Darren_ , and Chris is Chris. Which is just ridiculous. If anything, Chris being Chris is more reason to want to kiss him.

“Well, maybe I’m curious, too… And I can’t think of anyone better to kiss.” Darren grins in that way his drama teacher calls  _charming_ , but Chris rolls his eyes. If Darren has any charm, Chris seems to be immune to it. But then he becomes quiet, staring at Darren’s shirt rather than at his face.

“Do you… Really want to kiss me?” He sounds shy in a way that Darren has never heard him sound before.

At this point… Yeah, Darren really sort of does.

“Tell me if I suck, okay?” Darren cups Chris’s cheek in his hand, and Chris snorts.

“Same doesn’t go for me, just tell me I’m awesome, okay?” Chris’s eyes keep flicking down to Darren’s mouth, and, well, it is a little weird. Only because Darren hasn’t ever really spent a lot of time thinking about Chris’s mouth, unless it’s when Chris is smiling or laughing or talking or something.

Kissing is new.

Kissing might be sort of awesome though?

Darren’s excited to find out.

Chris is breathing short and fast, and then just slams his eyes shut, which is cool. Darren doesn’t mind being the one who leans in, who presses their lips together. Chris’s lips are a little rough, and a little dry, and extremely hesitant. Then again, Darren isn’t putting his all into it, either.

But then Chris sort of tilts his head to the side, and Darren pushes closer, and  _okay_. Now they are certainly kissing. Chris’s fingers are gripping at Darren’s shirt, and Darren is pulling Chris’s bottom lip between his and sort of sucking on it.

And then Chris makes this  _sound_  that Darren has never heard him make before, and it’s kind of amazing, but also might make things really awkward really fast if he keeps making them.

Darren pulls away with an exhale, his skin feeling hot and too tight, and Chris’s face is flushed, eyes fluttering open.

“Why’d you stop?” Chris voice sounds a little lower than Darren is used to hearing. “Was I bad?”

“No, you were… That was awesome.” Kind of more awesome than Darren had been expecting, and it makes his head feel like it’s spinning.

“Really?” Chris is beaming at him, still unsure, and Darren can’t help but smile back.

“Yeah, it was… Yeah.” Darren laughs, tugging a hand through his kind of crazy hair, and trying not to get a little hysterical because he just kissed his best friend in their childhood playhouse.

“You were, um.” Chris bites his lip. He always bites his lip. Darren had just never really paid attention to it before.

Now he can’t look away from it.

“You were pretty awesome, too.” Chris looks embarrassed admitting it, but it pets at Darren’s ego in the right ways, and he feels like preening.

He also feels like kissing Chris some more.

It had been really stupid to stop, because starting again seems kind of awkward to propose.

“Probably a fluke.” Darren should stop staring at Chris’s lips, that’s probably weird.

He sort of doesn’t care.

“Huh?” Chris’s eyebrows skew together in confusion.

“Me, being awesome. A fluke. We should… Probably test that. To make sure I’m actually as good a kisser as you thought.”

“You want to… Test it?”

Darren’s eyes shift from looking at Chris’s lips to his eyes, and then back to his lips.

“Unless you don’t… Want to?” Darren shifts. Because  _damn_ , he totally is just screwing up a lot of things today.

“No, I… Yeah. Yeah, we should… Definitely test it.”

This time, Chris kisses him with a lot more confidence, and when he makes that throaty noise, Darren tries to get him to make it  _again_.

Maybe they can start using the treehouse for more than just bad days.


End file.
